


Rictus Takes Out the Trash

by Pendles_is_friendles



Series: Alls the Thralls [13]
Category: Battleborn (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:21:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22553167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pendles_is_friendles/pseuds/Pendles_is_friendles
Summary: An example of Torque's typical behaviour and also an example of some of Rictus's unique abilities.
Series: Alls the Thralls [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1236143





	Rictus Takes Out the Trash

Rictus Takes Out the Trash  
The mid-day lull. Rictus took solace in its predictability. With the matron off on some adventure with her cheerful (but difficult to look at) paramour, it meant a break from the patrons of the Sinful Bat. Even the girls were off on break; Rictus suspected that they were making out in the dressing room again. Standing on his box, his hands worked to clean the bar itself and refill the complimentary mixed nuts. His tentacles worked in smooth, near automated precision to clean the glasses and set them in the small machine at his ankles. Rictus relaxed.

A massive shadow passed on the other side of the stained-glass window. The void touched one finished the glasses in his tendrils’ grasp and sank them back under his skin, one by one. The door burst open, an impressive figure of a heavily armoured Thrall darkened the doorway. He pried off his helmet to reveal his thick reinforced crest; his scowl barely hidden by the curled corners of his twisted green horns. “Runt, is the lady of the house in?” As he spoke, Rictus noticed the swelling around the other’s fresh gold teeth. “I must speak with her.”

With the pads of his fingers, Rictus rubbed his eyelids. “You're not allowed to be here, Torque,” he growled in exasperation. “Even sober.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.” Torque walked past the bar to sit in one of the larger booths. He swept his cape over his arm guard before taking his spot. Tapping the table with his trimmed nail. “Won’t you be a good little runt and serve me something to take the sting off.”

Rictus rolled his eyes as he slapped his towel onto the bar top. Hopping down off of his box, only his head and long plates peeked over the high counter as he stepped out from behind it. Holding his head high, he glowered at Torque with his sharp hands at his hips. “You're not gettin’ nothin’ from here. Not now, not ever. Get out unless I toss you out.”

Torque laughed. The tiny Thrall was smaller than most Primals. Without Vocatia in the bar, there was no way the little one could budge him. He set his helmet on the table. With a finger, he pushed Rictus back. “Right! Who’ll make me, huh? You?”

With a scoff, he untied his apron in one pull and tossed it aside. “Yeah…” His deep, unsettling voice remained its usual deadpan tone. He tilted his head from side to side to loosen up his long neck. “Looks like that’s the case. Got a problem wit’ that, mate.”

Snarling, Torque barked as he swung his arm to backhand the insolent abomination. All he hit was air.

The small cloud of intangible dread hung over Rictus’s shivering plates as he hopped back to dodge the first lumbering attack. Baring his jutting fangs, his long claws coated in improbable nothingness, he lashed out, striking his opponent’s massive hand.

Recoiling his hand back from the chilling slice, Torque roared from the rising fury. “The fuck’s wrong with you?” Getting up from the booth, his hooves dug into the carpet as he charged at the smaller, soon to be dead void-thrall. “Respect my rank!”

Leaping to the side, Rictus managed to dodge the attack. His stripes moved into position, flaring out on either side. Taking advantage of the armour’s opening exposing the upper arm of Torque, he leapt onto him. He dug his claws into the thick flesh, cutting through like scalpels into a cake. Tentacles probed at the fresh openings, phasing into the other’s body with ease.

As the stripes spread across his arm and under Torque's skin, Torque swung his arm into a wall to try and toss off the little one. Static started to fill his mind, glacial dread pouring through his veins. He wanted to yank Rictus off, to save himself from the infected aberration probing him, but his free hand hung limp at his side.

“How 'bout this instead. You respect that we want nothin’ to do with you,” Rictus offered, twisting his tendrils around in the other’s body as he stared up at the other. “And you’ll walk out a livin’ asshole, alright?”

“Fuck off.” Torque knew he was rooted, almost literally. But, he could never bow to a runt, a mere gunner, an abomination. A freezing ache formed at the base of his skull and spread across his scalp. It was as of he took a bite of frozen methane. A whine escaped him, but his hands refused to clutch his splitting head. “Get off… me…”

“Nah.” Rictus shook his head, bumping the side of his horn into the solid arm. “More like, you're goin’ to start walkin’…” He tilted his head to the side to glance down at the hooves a few feet below him. They didn’t move. Rolling his eyes, he added, “'Less you're goin’ to do it on your own. It’d be less embarassin’ for you.”

The searing chill spread from Torque’s skull downwards, every joint ached. The first lumbering step towards the door shook. Torque could not stop himself, he resisted the invisible string that tried to puppet him. He would not bow. Hitting the ground on its side, Torque's hoof slipped; he blacked out before his whole body slammed into the floor.

“Damn…” Rictus disentangled himself from the other, the usual weight on his mind lifted. Pulling himself onto his hooves, he dusted himself off. He let his tentacles hang in the air behind him, somehow the inky non-existence dirtied by his work. His shoulders slumped as he tossed his head back in frustration. “Well, now I gotta call someone to clean all this up… bloody hell, I did not need this today.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place long before "Starting the Year Off Right"


End file.
